Klang der Seele
by Seelenspiel
Summary: Yaoi. Goten/Trunks. Mentally unstable, Goten choses to follow a dangerous path that might well lead to his own demise.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own anything ;)

Warning: yaoi (male/male relationship), major angst ... that's all for now ;)

AN: Since English isn't my native language I'll probably make lots of grammar and vocabulary mistakes. Please forgive me ; I would really appreciate it if someone would be willing to Beta-read.

I've decided to revise this story before continuing it since there are lots of scenes that were written badly and rushed to get on with the story. Many things that should have been explained a bit more and some that should have been left out.

_Soul's tune_

I lean my head against his shoulder, needing to feel his skin, his touch, his warmth. His body fits perfectly against mine and I can't resist to snuggle closer, to taste more of his fragnance, to taste more of his poison.

He turns his head to the sky and smiles slightly. For a moment I can't do anything but watch him from half-open eyes. Watch the sun reflecting in his eyes, the wind softly flowing through his hair.

If he'd look my way now I'm afraid he would be appalled to see the blatant longing in my glance, a yearning apparent for anyone who'd dare to look closer.

What I'd give to make him mine, to taint his lips with my venomous touch. To pull him into my disturbed reality. To end this damned friendship and let it blossom into love.

„The wind feels nice after a workout, doesn't it?" he murmurs.

_My heart screams and my mind breaks. This yearning is killing me. Has been destroying me for years of hiding behind the carefully placed mask of friendship._

He tilts his head a little and his amused gaze meets mine. Belately I realize that I must have been staring at him.

„Busy thinking, Chibi?" he asks, his shoulders shaking slightly in laughter when my eyes widen.

„Y-Yeah!" I hurry to finally answer. „It really feels comforting." Your touch, your laughter. Not the wind.

_Desire burns like fire, flickering flames consuming me from inside out. Leaving a dizzy feeling and heat and – ashes – ashes – ashes. My chest constricts painfully with every breath I inhale, with every beat of my heart, with every whisper from his mouth, with every soothing touch he unconsciously offers._

I raise my hand to lightly touch his cheek. He looks surprised for a second, then his smile warms his face again. So naive, so innocent, so intoxicating. Not yet fully comprehending the emotions mirroring in my eyes.

_Don't do it, Goten. Don't make it harder for the both of us._

He looks down at me helplessly and moves his hand around my shoulder in a friendly gesture. When he slowly lifts his fingers to stroke my hair I know that I can't stay away any longer. That I've ignored my soul's craving for far too long. That I'm too far gone to stop now.

_Don't undo everything you've built up so carefully with one single rash decision._

I pull back slightly and sit up, watching his confused expression. His hand falls back down on my shoulder when I fully face him. He doesn't remove it though and I guess that's a good sign, isn't it?

„You're so beautiful," I whisper, cupping his face with both of my hands.

His eyes darken when I draw nearer, his breathing slightly uneven. His fingers are grasping at my clothing. I can see the glint in his striking blue eyes. It's lust.

„G-... Goten..."

His husky voice is melody in my ears, a caress itself. The way he breathes my name makes me want to touch him all the more. To just throw him down and take him. Make him mine and make me his.

_Don't rush it. Don't lose it all._

My hands touch his cheeks gently, pulling him down to me. He closes his eyes in anticipation, exhaling with difficulty.

Then my lips taste his in a chaste kiss. Innocent and overwhelming. He tastes of honey and sweat, he tastes of life.

He is still frozen in place, not stirring aside from the obvious heaving of his chest.

Tentatively I try moving my lips against his, try to convince him to open up to me. And after a few agonizing seconds he finally responds. He slowly opens his mouth, unsure and hesistant.

When I cuddle closer our kiss breaks and he opens his lids again. For a moment we aren't able to do anything but stare into each other's eyes.

He blinks – and then something in him snaps.

I knit my eyebrows and look at him, wondering what got him upset. But when I gaze his skin with my fingertips he pushes me away roughly.

Astonished by his reaction I fail to stop the impact, my body crashes against the ground and my head thuds with a soft sound.

_Was it really worth one moment of bliss?_

It doesn't hurt. I turn my head to look up at him, his frosty glare watching my every movement. And for a moment I forget how to feel. There is no pain, just emptiness.

Blankness.

Nothing.

„Faggot," he spits.

And suddenly the emotions come crashing down. The pain, the horror, the desperation. So this is how it feels to see your world collapse. It's an absurd and tantalizing feeling. Especially when you know that noone but yourself is to blame.

_Was losing your best friend really worth one moment of bliss?_

There is nothing I can do to change the situation anymore, I realize. The wounds have been inflicted, the damage was done. No „Hey, sorry, Trunks, it was just a joke" could restore this fragile friendship.

I lean my head back down on the ground and wait for him to continue, my heart filling with dread.

Don't say anything. I know it already.

Don't break me more than you already have.

„Don't ever come near me again. Don't ever touch me again. You disgust me."

He stays for another moment, glaring down at me. Then he turns around and leaves.

Leaves me.

Leaves us. What could have been us.

My body begins to tremble and I try to push my shaking limbs up.

I want to get away, his smell is still lingering in the air and my pride won't stand to let me break down here.

At least the tiny bit of what is left of my pride.

_You destroyed this friendship_, a harsh voice whispers in my head. _Best friend wasn't sufficient enough for you. You wanted more_. And then again: _You destroyed this friendship. Noone is to blame but you._

My body disobeys, my shivering hand slips and I fall back down onto the grass.

Then finally the tears come. I wipe them away furiously, angry at myself. I shouldn't wallow in self-pity but rather think about a solution. How is it possible to fix the broken trust our friendship endured? How can I undo the damage I've voluntary done?

_I have offered him everything._

I can't understand why he turned me down, I saw the lust in his eyes, I saw emotions in his eyes. Is he afraid? Am I not worthy enough for him?

Oh Dende, I ruined everything.

I've ruined our friendship.

I have to talk to him. Maybe he will believe me if I tell him it was just a bet. Maybe we can rebuild our friendship from a frangible lie. Maybe it's not too late yet to persuade him that I had not been serious.

Get up, Goten, get up! If you run after him now he might still believe you. Don't wait any longer. Every minute that passes will convince him of your guilt.

_Not yet!_

A hollow scream, a silent plea.

_How will you face him now? Full of tears and a hoarse voice?_ _With a heart broken to pieces and a world upside down? Can you even look into his eyes truthfully anymore?_

Tomorrow then, at school. Tomorrow I will talk to him. He will understand. We will remain best friends. Tomorrow, surely.

I stand up slowly, my limbs still shaking. Breathe, Goten, breathe. You haven't lost it all yet. There will certainly be a way to repair your friendship.

_... but not to undo the damage, _the voice inside my head says mercilessly.

_You have offered him everything. And he rejected every bit of it._

And that was the worst truth of it all.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own anything

Warning: Still yaoi, still angsty, drug abuse, rape... You name it, it's here XD

_Soul's tune _

_You're a coward._

And silently I nod. Yes, I'm a coward. It's been three days and I still haven't found the courage to finally confront Trunks.

_It will only get worse, _the voice in my head acknowledges as if I don't know it too well already. _Talk to him. The sooner, the better. Postponing the conversation will only make it worse. _

It's not like I haven't tried yet! It's just that he's always surrounded by people. He's the president of C.C. for Dende's sake. People are drawn to him like moths to light. How am I supposed to get close to him if he's always encircled by classmates?

_Did that ever bother you before? Take his hand, do your easy-go-lucky smile and pull him away from the crowd!_

It's so easy to say. But then again he's never made any move to talk to me either. Since that incident he hasn't spoken a single word with me. I'm nonexistant to him. Just another person in a world of too many individuums.

My chest hurts. Has been hurting for three days. I'd like to coax myself that it's just because of my lack of appetite. It mostly is, probably. Not like I can die of a damn heartbreak.

But every now and then I do wonder if hearts can bleed tears when they break. It sure feels that way.

I knew the risk. With hindsight I should have never taken it, I know. Yes, now I know. I guess sometimes you just have to do something stupid to learn from it. Learn it the hard way and it will be easier to remember. It will burn itself into your memories. Then maybe – hopefully – you'll never make the same mistake again.

He won't make the first move, I'm sure of that. But then again why should he? It wasn't his fault to begin with. He never intended to change our relationship.

I sigh and walk through the school corridor towards his locker. Better to wait for him there and get it over with. It can't possibly get any worse than it is now, anyway.

His voice tears me out of my own world. I shake my head and concentrate on the scene before my eyes. He's slowly walking into my direction, talking intently with a few classmates. I can tell the second he recognizes I'm waiting for him when his head snaps up and his eyes bore into mine. His lips lift into an uncertain smile when he comes closer.

„Goten," he says as a greeting and my chest contradicts painfully.

'Goten,' he said. I don't think he is even aware that his greeting just shattered every hope I had for us to stay friends. 'If he'd known that would he still have spoken this word?' the masochistic voice in my head wonders.

„When was the last time you've called me Goten?" I ask him dryly.

His eyes widen for a moment and he blinks. „Chibi," he corrects then.

„Listen. Do you have a few minutes?" I glance at his companions pointedly. „I really need to talk to you."

„Of course," he nods, smiling at his classmates apologetically. „Excuse me."

He walks behind me when I lead him towards the bathroom. The door closes quietly behind us when I come to a close in front of the mirrors.

„Sorry. This was the first place that came to my mind," I grin and raise my hand to scratch my head uncomfortably.

He looks at me then laughs. „Figures." he says.

„About what happened...," I begin, watching his reactions in the mirror. He exhales heavily, fixing his eyes on my reflection.

„It never happened, Chibi." He offers.

A solution that would destroy our friendship to rebuild it anew on a base of lies. A suggestion that would allow us to stay close to each other, eating on my love until I burned with hatred from within.

„It happened." I disagree, shaking my head slowly. „I considered telling you lies, mind you. About the kiss being a bet, about me being horny and jumping everything that walks."

„Then why don't you?" he whispers. „You know the outcome of this disscussion."

„Because I would rather have truth break our friendship outright than watch a lie break it bit by bit." I answer him honestly.

He sighs and turns away. „Then talk," he demands tiredly.

I breathe in deeply. „I'm gay."

„Yes, I kinda figured that out already." he laughs hoarsely.

„I know I shouldn't have kissed you," I admit, my words getting rushed. „I didn't think. It's just that the sun reflected in your eyes and the wind blew through your hair and you... you looked so beautiful."

„Goten, please stop." his voice is pained.

I smile bitterly and turn to face him. „You responded," I accuse him. „We connected. I know you must have felt it."

His eyes seem to cloud over for a second. Then he raises his hand to the handle. Before he pushes the door open he glances at me. „It must have been your imagination. It would never work out. We would never work out. I'm sorry."

With a silent whiff he is gone, leaving me frozen, still staring at his vanished image.

'_You've really done it this time_,' something in my head states astonished, not yet fully comprehending.

'_Goten, just what have you done?!' _another voice screams, grasping the situation perfectly. And then: _'Dende! Oh Dende! What have I done? What have I done?!'_

I turn on the faucet forcefully and splash water into my face. The stranger in the mirror stares back with white skin and fathomless eyes. In a haze I raise my fingers to touch that abhorrent image. The stranger mimics the motion lazily.

_What have you done, what have you done, whathaveyoudone?_

It feels so strange to experience both, panic and calmness. An insane urge to scream. An insane urge to laugh. An insolveable wish to stop the time or turn it back.

_You have just completely turned him away from you – _

_You have just completely been rejected._

_You have just destroyed a bond of many years._

_You have just been destroyed. _

Shivering hands that open the door. Stumbling feet that leave the school unnoticed.

_Don't – go – come – away – back - leave – me – us – me – me – me--_

„You look like a broken doll."

My head snaps up and I blink, finally becoming aware of my surroundings. My feet must have moved on their own. One glance tells me that I must have unconsciously walked towards the slums.

A small figure is sitting in front of me, her back leaning against the rundown wall of an alley. Her clothes are torn and dirty. Her pupils look unnaturally wide when her eyes lock with mine.

„Excuse me?" I say, quite dumbstruck.

„You look broken," she repeats through smiling lips.

I consider turning around without even answering when she laughs. And something about this laugh just seems so utterly... wrong and perplexing. She pats the spot beside her, inviting me without words.

Her eyes are dark and deep. Very common, not really striking. It's neither form nor colour that makes me look at them twice. There is truth in those eyes, and reality. There is regret and defeat. Those eyes have seen too much.

I don't know why I decide to accept her offer. Maybe because of those intriguing eyes that speak of a lifetime of lost opportunities, maybe because I wonder if my eyes look the same right now.

She laughs in that weird way again, blessed and tormented. Then she scans the ground with her fingers until they finally grasp a fragile object.

„Wanna try? Makes you feel better."

She holds out a syringe and I look at her strangely.

„Give it a shot. Makes you forget your sorrows."

''''''''''''''''''''

AN: If you've read my old fic before you'll probably recognize that this

time I didn't want to portrait Trunks as the evil bad boy. ;)

I wanted to try and make it a bit more realistic and

I hope that I managed to do that/you agree with this change

Feedback would be nice (..)


	3. Chapter 3

AN: So yeah. I'm still alive somewhere. Pretty busy though. I'm not even sure why I suddenly decided to update this story since I haven't been writing anything recently.

If anyone is interested in Beta-reading I'd be really grateful.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me of course except the storyline

Warnings: Yeah. Everything. I tend to make people suffer before they get a happy ending – and most of the time they don't even get one. Lol

_**Klang der Seele **_

Her outstretched hand trembles slightly, still offering, still waiting. Her eyes are clouded and unfocused.

I take the needle from her hand hesitantly. It's such a small thing, really. Poignant and sharp and tempting, so tempting.

_Forget your sorrows_ rings in my ears, penetrates the breakable walls of my mind and echoes – echoes – echoes – through my brain.

I shake my head slowly before my gaze wanders back to her small form.

"I… I have never done…." My voice stumbles, my whisper fades.

She smiles in that dubious way of hers, trying to grant warmth but offering anguish and a shriek that should have been heard miles away if it wasn't too silent and fractured.

A small part of me considers asking her what blow made her fall so low. Another part is wondering if it would be so bad to accompany her. And the biggest part of me is scared. Scared of the thoughts that suddenly seem to engulf my mind. Scared of the salvation that is given so easily. The way out that I'd been looking for.

She shakes her head – and what a strange movement it is. Full of insane laughter and bloodred rose blossoms that swing back and forth in the wind.

"Don't worry, I'll show you," she says.

She shifts closer and takes my right arm in her hands before rolling up my sleeve. I watch her pick up a small tube with wide eyes, too stunned by her initiative, too fascinated to pull back.

When she attaches the flexible tube to my arm I blink, still unmoving.

"You have to look for the vein," she explains evenly. "Veins are bluish, arteries are invisible and pulsating. See?"

I nod dumbly, watching her.

"The levelled side of the needle is on top," she continues. Then she looks up and raises her eyebrows as if making sure I'm listening to her explanation. After a few seconds I finally nod and she smiles in that weird way again. The smile that knows too much of the world and gave up on it.

She takes the syringe out of my hand and holds it above my vein. Then her eyes move to mine again, silently asking for permission.

I nod again, slowly this time. Unsure. Anticipating. Maybe both.

She lowers her eyes again and then pushes the needlepoint forward. Just a little.

After that she takes off the tube and injects the fluid slowly into my veins.

It doesn't hurt. It doesn't sting. All in all I guess it actually feels unreal and fascinating.

A small line of blood forms at the puncture of the needle and she quickly removes the syringe and presses my skin together.

"There done," she whispers although there's nobody around to hear us.

The rush of euphoria is almost instantly. An experience of nausea and vomiting along with elation.

Balance. Lack of composure and peace combined with dizziness. Warmth, cold and ultimately an equation of both at once.

It's incredible. It's frightening. It's amazing. It's burning with watery flames.

It is forgiveness and oblivion. It's colourful and a scenario painted in black and white.

It's a floating haze and it's save – save – save – and so much more than I hoped for.

It's the right kind of wrong and I'm free, I'm weightless, I'm drowning.

The pain is gone, the anguish vanished. The sorrow fading and the sluggishness paling.

The haunting memories cast aside, replaced by felicity and bliss.

I want to dance with the wind, I want to see the dawn, I want to race against the sun, I want to sing with the stars.

It's a shadow inside my mind and

_tell me –_tell _me _– t.e.l.l. _me –_

Does that make me beautiful tonight?

In my sickness can you find me beautiful tonight?

:::

My mouth feels dry when I come to my senses again. There's a steady throbbing in my head that slowly invades the haze that filled my mind.

It's dark, I realize. Darker than it should have been.

How long have I been out of it? I can't even begin to guess how many hours must have passed.

I gaze at the prick of the needle and pull down my sleeve hurriedly. Just what was I thinking when I agreed with that nameless girl. Just what was I hoping to get out of a dose of drugs – _And_ _oh god, Goten, you didn't even ask what was inside that syringe_, my conscience screams.

_Freedom. _A voice inside my head answers steadily, undisturbed. _You wanted freedom. And you got it, didn't you? You got it._

My breath hitches and I push myself up to my feet hurriedly. Those thoughts are scaring me more than I'd like to admit because they ring true and false at the same time.

I place a hand against the wall for balance and take a wary look around. The girl is gone, the alley empty. Not that it comes as a surprise given the progress of the sun. Five hours, I assume. Maybe more.

My Mum must be out of her mind right about now. More than five hours without a word. With my luck the school might have called her already and told her that I've skipped the last few lessons. Wonderful.

I close my eyes for a few seconds. When I open them again my gaze is stuck on a small piece of paper on the ground. Sighing, I bend down to pick it up.

"**I'****m sorry I have to leave. Come again, I'll wait for you." **The handwriting is clumsy and tremulous.

There's no name on the small note and I'm the glad the girl decided to leave our meeting impersonal. It's easier not to associate a name with that fallen human being. It makes it easier not to come back, looking for her.

Because I would not, I decide. As good as those few hours had felt I would not come back. There a many things you learn with parents like mine and I like to think that I'm not totally ignorant of the world. I know of the consequences of drug addiction – and even if I didn't one look at the small girl would have been enough to tell me all about them.

I wouldn't come again.

I push the paper into my pockets_ – why not throw it away, Goten?_ The voice whispers with a knowing smile – and make my way back home.

::

As predicted Chi-Chi is waiting for me in front of our house, her head leaning against the doorframe. When she hears my light steps her head snaps up and she looks at me with tired eyes.

"Goten…" she says before pushing herself off the door and embracing me fiercely. Then she takes my face in both of her hands and scans my body. She smiles briefly when she doesn't find any new scars and pulls me close again.

"Where have you been?!" she exclaims. "I've been so worried when the school called and you didn't come home."

For a moment I just enjoy being in her arms and feeling the way a teenager should when being in his mother's arms. It won't last long. It never does.

Because I know – deep in my heart I _know_ – that it's not me she has missed. And it's not me she's been waiting to embrace.

"I'm sorry, Mum," I mumble.

She takes a step back, taking a good look at me again. "Why did you skip school?" she asks then. All motherly affection and morale. "You know how important school is, don't you?"

I turn my head away then because I know what is coming. "I know."

"Why didn't you contact me? You shouldn't skip school because of a small headache." Is that what the principal told her, I wonder. "But even then you should at least contact me, Goten. Don't you understand that I worry about you? Don't you understand that your father-"

"I know," I cut her off. _Don't always compare me to my father_ is what is actually on the tip of my tongue.

"No, Goten. Obviously you don't," she disagrees. "Maybe you don't remember the pain of being left behind because you were too small-"

"Mum. I _know_." I repeat, tired now myself.

She sighs and throws her hands in the air. "Do your homework and get some sleep," she finally remarks. "Are you hungry?"

"No," I mumble, deciding to skip the homework and head straight to bed.

Her surprised glance follows me all the way up the stairs to my room.

::

My lids feel heavy when I enter school the next day. A light touch on my shoulder catches me unaware and I turn around drowsy.

"Hey, Goten." Trunks says hesitantly. "Where have you been yesterday? Chi-Chi called a few times, she sounded anxious."

"Do you really care?" I retort more sharply than I intent and he removes his hand again, eyes carefully guarded.

"Sorry," I mutter wearily and comb my fingers through my hair. "That was uncalled for. I just took a walk to sort out my thoughts." _Half-Truth._

He nods, not at all convinced and his eyes narrow slightly. "You look pale. Are you okay?"

I would have laughed if I didn't feel so dead inside.

"I didn't get much sleep." _Liar. _"My Mum wasn't really happy with me when I came home, if you get what I mean."

"I can imagine…" A tentative smile lifts the corner of his lips. "So… are we still sparring tonight? Given the recent circum-"

"Yeah," I interrupt him. "Yeah. Still sparring."

He releases a relieved breath and his smile becomes more prominent.

"Same time, same place?"

"Yeah," I agree.

He nods again and looks around for an escape when the silence between us becomes too overbearing.

"Can I copy your homework?" I say before he has the chance to leave.

He looks at me for a second, then the small smile is on his lips again. "Sure."

He searches through his bag before handing me a few sheets. "Homework's on the last page, naturally."

"Naturally," I assent, taking the sheets from his hands.

He stares at me for another moment. "Just give it back before the lesson starts," he offers before turning away. He doesn't leave though.

I look up, watching him. The uncomfortable silence is stretching between us again.

"I do care," he finally says.

_But not enough_ I want to reply.

::

AN: From the lack of updates you can probably imagine that I'm not motivated at all to write anything if I don't get feedback. I won't force anyone to review of course. But I'm one of those authors who doesn't really write for herself (the things I write for myself will certainly not be made public) but for people like me who enjoy reading fanfiction. So if noone actually reads this story I guess there's not much need to update ^^


End file.
